Page 80 of Auctioned to the Billionaire Surgeon

I grinned. “Yeah. And I want to take you to the charity gala at Salazar Nights that’s coming up. I picked a dress out for you… well, Madeline and Carmen picked out a dress for you… and I’m very excited to have you go as my date.”

No words were necessary. Her smile said it all.

We went inside to get ready for work and happened to take an extra long shower where I might or might not have fucked her against the tiles until she screamed.

It was a perfect morning.

***

I tucked Jelly’s arm into mine as we walked the red carpet into Salazar Nights. Tonight’s charity gala was advertised as a black and white ball, but the invitation had stated navy and red were also allowed. Jelly, who looked fucking astounding in red, was wearing a beautiful dress in that color. I wore a tux with a red bowtie to complement her gorgeous dress.

As I looked down at her, I was so damn happy to have her with me. I could tell from the looks she was getting from all the men around us, I was one lucky fucker, too.

Her hair flowed down her back in glossy waves, her makeup was elegant, her dress was classy—I was proud to be seen with her. I couldn’t believe that I’d ever been worried that she would make me look bad.

Fucking ridiculous.

“Mr. Lanetti,” a reporter’s voice called, “who are you here with tonight?”

Jelly and I stopped for them to get some pictures of us. She opened her mouth and got out, “Je…”

I quickly interrupted. “My gorgeous date is Ann Ray.” I said, smiling, as I directed Jelly into the club.

“Ann Ray?” she asked under her breath, a smile fixed on her face.

“Well, you know why we couldn’t say your name is Jelly. Come on.”

The hurt look on her face didn’t escape me, but she was just going to have to get over certain things if she was going to be with me.

“What about Ray Ann Pinkoe? That wasn’t good enough, either?”

I gave her a look. “Come on, Jelly. You don’t even like that name. It sounds… ridiculous,” I said waving to a few people I knew. “Too country, you know?”

“Right,” she mumbled, her smile dimming.

“Don’t be like that. You hate your name. I was doing you a favor.”

She looked at me sharply. “Yeah. Sure, you were.”

“Going by a slightly different name beats the hell out of me bringing a different date tonight, though, right?”

Hurt flashed across her face. “So, if I don’t like something I just put up with it or you’ll ditch me?”

My mouth opened to refute what she was saying, but there was a bit of truth in there, whether it made me uncomfortable or not. “That’s not what I meant.”

“Yeah, well, you’re kind of being an asshole.”

I didn’t like that one bit. But was she right? I clenched my jaw, smiling at one of the members of the hospital board over her shoulder.

I chose to drop it. We could talk about her name later if she was still upset about it. But I felt sure she’d come around to my way of thinking when she’d had time to process it all.

Almost immediately, we were pulled into a group of friends andcolleagues.

“Honey, how the hell did you end up on the arm of this guy?” an older, retired doctor asked with a grin.

Jelly just smiled at him. Several of the men directed questions at her, but they were mainly rhetorical. None of them actually wanted to hear her answers. It only took her a couple of minutes to figure that out. After that, she stood quietly at my side while I talked with them all.

The strains of Louis Armstrong’s “Wonderful World” started up from the central dais in the room, which held a jazz band.